


Give Life Back to Music

by guymans (cactuuar)



Category: Daft Punk
Genre: AU, Gen, M/M, im robot trash lololol, sorta - Freeform, they're nerds helping a teenager out ok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 05:50:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4089352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cactuuar/pseuds/guymans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things just aren't going right for Rhapsody Ruiz, a distressed high school girl about to leave for college. The only problems are: her parents have no idea of her secret passion for music, she has no idea what she wants to study once she embarks for college, her siblings are the only source of support at the moment, and now two robots show up out of the blue claiming they can help her convince her parents to let her pursue her musical career. Wait, what?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alive

**Author's Note:**

> ah yes robot fanfiction im in my element  
> drop a review or fav/whatever you so desire, thank you!

“Mommy, mamá, I wanna make music."

At least that is what young Rhapsody Ruiz wanted to say at that moment, but her even younger brother had cut her off with an even more interesting story about his class' field trip to the museum of science. Knowing her parents would rather listen to his detailed explanation on how fast light traveled, she stayed quiet for the rest of dinner, only picking at her green beans and marinated chicken.

"Mom, I wanna be a DJ."

That is what a slightly older Rhapsody Ruiz wanted to say, but was silenced by her one of her mother's' cell phones— a call from her other mother about her water apparently breaking. As she and her younger brother were hurriedly shuffled into their car that evening, she figured her career decisions would have to come _after_ the arrival of her baby sister.

"Mom, mamá, I wanna be a musician."

That is what a current eighteen year old Rhapsody Ruiz said to her reflection in her dresser mirror, face straight and hands clenched at her sides. She let out a puff of air after staring herself down, letting her head fall onto her dresser. Who was she kidding? There was no way she could win this on-going battle of wanting to confess her life-long dream to her parents— and getting approval from them. Both of her mothers were extremely understanding, however, when it came to the future of their children, there were no fun and games. And it did not help that she was a senior in highschool about to graduate in just eight months.

Footsteps came stomping up the staircase, and her door swung open. "D! Mom's callin' you," her younger sister, Marina, chirped. "It seemed important, too."

The elder groaned, waving her sibling off. If her mother was calling her rather than her mamà, then she knew it was serious. She sat up, assessing her reflection in the mirror: her chocolate brown hair was tied up into a sock bun, the messy bangs falling slightly into her eyes under her glasses. A beauty mark lay on near the corner of her right eye, the green irises contrasting with her overall tanned skin. All in all, she only looked like her mamá, having received more genes from her biological mother than from the donor. Not that she minded— it saved her the effort of getting a tan.

Rhapsody forced herself from her dresser, clad in her running shorts and school sweatshirt, and made her way down the staircase to see what new college her mother was going to attempt to sway her with. She's yet to decide, and while it is still a while until her graduation, she knew the decision had to be made sooner or later. Scholarships were also questionable, seeing as she excels in the arts— specifically music. Not that either of her parents would allow her to pursue.

"Mom?" The house was surprisingly quiet; even her little sister was no where to be seen with the family iPad, blasting whatever new pop artist had conjured up recently. Her younger brother was also absent from the couch, as was his gaming system. Now thoroughly confused and slightly alarmed, Rhapsody padded her way into the kitchen, flipping on the light switch—

 _"Surprise!"_ A confetti popper and the flash of a camera went off, and the teen had found herself in the middle of a surprise party. Or at least, a _small_ surprise party, consisting only of her family members. They had big smiles on their faces, her brother being the culprit of taking her picture while her sister held the now-empty confetti popper. A chocolate cake lay on the kitchen's island with two numbered candles stuck on top, along with a "Happy Birthday Rhapsody!" frosted across the top in yellow frosting.

"My— my birthday isn't until Monday," Rhapsody finally laughed in disbelief, walking forward to hug her parents and her siblings. "What is all this?"

"Well, since we're both working that night and it's on a school night, we decided to throw a little party ahead of time," her mamá said, squeezing her tight in a hug. "It's not everyday you turn eighteen, _mija."_

"You've grown up so fast, it's like you were just eight years old yesterday." Her mother added, joining the hug. "We're so proud of you."

"Alright, alright, we get it, congrats on being eighteen, D," her brother, Julian, interrupted then, producing a knife from one of the drawers to cut the cake. "Let's cut this thing already!"

He handed the knife to Rhapsody, who began cutting pieces gingerly to her family's requests. Marina liked the corners, Julian preferred the middle pieces, mamá liked extra frosting on her piece, and mom wanted a small piece from the side. Rhapsody took a piece with her name scrawled across it happily.

After eating the rather delicious cake (courtesy of Marina's allowance), her parents had yet another surprise. They lead her— blindfolded!— through the house to their living room, flipping the light switch on and removing the blindfold to reveal—

"You-You got me a _guitar?"_ She all but squeaked, frozen in place as she marvelled the absolute beauty before her: a— no, _the_ — Fender American Deluxe. And in white! "Mom, mamá, I can't believe this! How did you guys even know I wanted a guitar?"

Both of her parents gave a pointed look towards Julian, who only shrugged his shoulders. "So I eavesdrop on your phone calls sometimes, sue me. I can hear you through the wall, anyways."

While the slight invasion of her privacy bugged her, Rhapsody's attention quickly shifted to her new guitar. Her hands touched the handle gently, and the smooth wood sent shivers up her spine as she picked up the entire instrument. She slipped the leather strap over her shoulder and let her fingers strum a few chords, letting out a happy cry over the crisp sounds. "This is so freaking nice! I love it!"

"Rhapsody, why didn't you tell us you wanted a guitar?" Her mother asked. The question caught her off guard, but it did not completely ruin her mood. "You already know piano, you could have told us you were interested in another instrument."

"Yeah, uh... I'm sorry. I guess I didn't wanna bother you guys—"

"She doesn't wanna tell you that she wants make music!" Marina interjected, much to Rhapsody's horror. This was supposed to be discussed in private, on a different day, possibly when they were both in extremely good moods. "I think she can make it. She already messes with that music stuff on her computer, anyways."

"You do?" Her mamá raised an eyebrow. "You want to do this as a career?"

Not with the way she was spitting out the words. "Mamá, it's-it's more of a hobby, I just do this for fun."

"It better stay a hobby, Rhapsody," her mother said, crossing her arms over her chest. "You won't make it on your own doing foolish things like that."

"Foolish? It's not foolish, mom, it's what I've been wanting to do since I was little. Every time I tried to tell you guys, I chickened out because of that exact reaction," she tried to keep her tone down to an inside voice, but when people diss music, her feelings get hurt. Especially if the dissing was coming from her own parents, the ones whose approval matters most to her. "It's what I'm passionate about and actually good at."

She noticed that Marina and Julian had made their way out of the room and away from the rising argument. At least they did not have to see her shed tears over this.

"You're good at other things, more practical things, Rhapsody. This music idea needs to get out of your head _pero rapido,"_ her mamá switched to her native tongue to emphasize her growing anger. "You're not going to spend your life living in this house."

She was quick to realize the depth of her mamá's words. "You don't think I can make it, do you?" Neither said anything. "My own _parents_ don't have confidence in my music career? This is exactly why I never told you two anything in the first place, I knew you would shut me down!"

Rhapsody ignored the yells of her parents, instead turning to stomp up the stairs and shut the door to her room in frustration. The guitar suddenly felt heavy, and she set it down next to her bedside table gingerly before climbing under her covers. The day was officially ruined, her sibling's efforts were put to waste, and her parents were probably downstairs arguing about her career and where they went wrong. This is the exact outcome she envisioned when she thought about telling them; her worst nightmare come true.

For now, she could only hope to escape through sleep, and perhaps things would be better when she woke up. She could try to make a new track with her new guitar later, if her computer was not completely uninstalled when she wakes up.

* * *

 

A shuffling near her door woke her from her frustrated sleep. It was dark out, and her digital clock beside her read eleven pm. She blinked her weary eyes open to see who was trying to break into her room— probably one of her mothers to try to talk to her about the music thing— and sat up, the covers falling from her shoulders. After taking down her messy bun and putting her glasses on, she walked over to her door, where an envelope sat. Her name was written on the front in sparkly purple ink, which could only mean it was from her sister.

_D,_

_Sorry for spilling your secret to mom and mamá today. I didn’t get the chance to give you Julian and I’s other present after your fight with them. We put together our allowances and managed to get you this! Sorry if it’s a little lame, but Julian researched music mixing stuff and decided on this. Happy Birthday, sis! We think you can make it. XOXO_

_Marina + Julian_

_(P.S. You can have my desserts for the next three weeks!)_

She wanted to cry and rush out to give them hugs, but of course, she was a bit more interested in what they had gotten her that had to do with “music mixing”. She put the letter down on her desk next to her laptop, fishing out what her siblings had gotten her from the envelope next: a floppy disk. An actual _floppy disk,_ that was actually made and distributed in the twenty first century. It was a bright gold on one side, and a cool silver on the other, and had a small piece of tape that read “DP Program” on the gold side. It looked new enough, but she had her doubts. It was not as if she doubted her siblings, rather, she doubted the program itself. What the hell did “DP” stand for?

Deciding to give the program a whirl, she fired up her laptop and slipped the floppy disk inside, grateful for its small size. Rhapsody waited for a disk alert to pop up on her screen, but instead an entire new window appeared, to her surprise.

“What the hell?” She murmured, moving her mouse to hover over the black window where a blinking grey line sat. Something— or _someone_ — was about to start typing out a message, she guessed. “What is this?”

Then, words began to appear:

_Hello, and good evening._

The situation was truly something one would see in a science fiction movie: a computer software talking to a human user. Rhapsody knew she needed to shut her entire computer off and possibly have it exorcised, but she didn’t. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitating to type a reply. Perhaps this was a part of the program Julian and Marina had personally put in, an interactive aspect to music making or some creative thing such as that.

Warily, she typed out a response:

_Hi...I don’t mean to be rude or pushy, but what exactly are you?_

A few seconds passed, then a response:

_Oh, yes. Please excuse us, we’re a bit new to this. My name is Thomas Bangalter and my partner’s name is Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo._

Another message underneath that in yellow letters read:

_Just Guy-Man is fine, thank you._

Now this was getting way too weird. There were _two_ softwares in one? Was that what they meant? And what did “Thomas” mean by being “new” to this? She wanted to ask all of these questions, but after much debate, she simply settled for: _Nice to meet you two, I guess. My name’s Rhapsody._ Then, her curiosity got the better of her. _What do you mean by “new” to this?_

_GM: He means we are not used to interacting with humans like this._

_R: Wait, aren’t you two software? Isn’t this whole thing a software?_

After hitting send, a new window popped up on the screen, this one looking more or less like the standard mixing software she had seen before. Another response was being typed out as she looked over the new window.

_T: Correct. We are the software you downloaded in the disk, as you can see to the right. You are interested in making music, no?_

_R: Well, yeah, but I didn’t think this would come with an interactive thing._

_GM: We are not simply “interactive”, we are entities within the software. Stated in better terms, we are the_ owners _of the software, and we just come with it._

_R: What, like robots or something?_

_T: Correct!_

The enthusiastic reply almost put her off, but instead, Rhapsody was more intrigued. No way they were telling the truth, right? This was one intricate add-on to the software, she had to admit. How much time did Julian spend coding this?

_R: Very funny, Julian. This is actually pretty hella— how much time did this take you? And where did you even find a floppy disk?_

_GM: She doesn't believe us, as predicted._

_T: Obviously. Time for plan B._

The chat window disappeared, leaving only the software window up on her homescreen. While she was starting to enjoy this present more and more, she idly wondered if she had upset her new "guests". If you could even call them that, seeing as they were supposed robots.

What happened next is still fuzzy to her, but she does remember sitting at her desk, about to create a new music file when there was a flickering on her screen accompanied by beeping (she was also sure her laptop began to sizzle). Afterwards, there was a loud popping noise, and the next thing she knew, she was on the floor and blind without her glasses. Her head ached from the fall (or rather, sudden explosion), but other than that, there seemed to be no internal damage— besides her missing glasses.

She groaned, reaching up to rub at the side of her head where she landed while sitting up. From what she could see, her laptop and desk were still where they sat before, and there were not black burnt marks on her walls, so her laptop explosion did not seem to destroy anything important. However, despite her blurry vision, she could make out two things that _definitely_ were not there before: two black blobs, but they were not exactly in blob form. They were rubbing their (silver and gold?) heads and also sitting up, but no words came from them except angry (this was the only word that summed up their apparent emotion) beeping and chirps.

Her hand reached desperately for her glasses, and when she finally found them, Rhapsody’s trembling hands brought them to her eyes. Just as she predicted, there were two men— no, _robots_ — sitting on her bedroom floor, communicating to each other through beeps and chirps and everything else a robot could possibly do to communicate. The silver and gold she had seen before turned out to be their heads, whereas the rest of them donned simple black clothes that covered every inch of themselves up, except their hands (which were also tiled silver and gold).

Before the teen could actually begin asking where in the hell they came from, the silver one started speaking. _“Dieu,_ I did not think it would be that much of an effort. Is this what pain actually feels like?” The french accent was a surprise.

“Who cares?” The gold one snapped, gently rubbing the back of his helmet/head. _“Merde,_ I think a wire is loose, my accent is getting worse by the minute.”

“Your accent has always been that way, Guy, you are just overreacting. Where is— ah, there she is,” the silver one stood up, albeit a bit clumsily, and extended a hand to a stunned Rhapsody. “Are you hurt? We apologize for the dramatic entrance.”

A part of her pushed her hand up to take his offered one, grateful to be on her own two feet again. However, there was still an obvious issue before her: how the absolute _fuck_ were two _robots_ standing in her room, and just what the _hell_ was she supposed to tell her parents? Did they even hear anything that just happened, the mini-explosion that her laptop just went through? Or the somehow deep, _suave_ voices that were definitely _not_ hers coming from their eighteen-year old daughter’s room? Julian must have heard, seeing as he eavesdrops on her conversations apparently, so why was no one breaking into her room?

No one came rushing into her room, there was no incessant knocking or her mamá threatening to break down the door. The house was as silent as a graveyard— which it should be, considering it was now one in the morning.

“I think she must have hit her head,” he turned to the golden one, Guy-Man, who was now standing and still rubbing the back of his helmet gently, “she’s not responding.”

“No, no, I’m fine, I’m just...I need some air,” she managed to squeak out, sitting on the edge of her bed and trying not to have a panic attack. “Just a quick question, um, where did-did you two come from, exactly?”

“Do you not remember? We introduced ourselves earlier through the computer.” Guy answered. “I think you are right about her hitting her head, Thomas.”

“Wait, you two are... _you two_ are Guy-Man and Thomas? From the _software?”_

Thomas nodded, the screen on his helmet flashing a red, pixelated checkmark. “Yes, we decided to show ourselves due to your doubting us. We have not been outside of a computer in quite a while, so I will admit it is refreshing.”

“So...actual robots...” Rhapsody felt her head getting lighter— whether it was from exhaustion or pure shock over the situation.

Either way, the last thing she remembered hearing was both robots cursing, “Oh, _merde.”_


	2. Fresh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another update so fast wow im definitely in my element

The next morning, Rhapsody awoke with a start, immediately reaching for her glasses and shooting up in bed. When she found nothing out of the ordinary, she momentarily breathed a sigh of relief, convinced that last night was in fact a dream. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and checked her clock: ten am. Marina should be at piano practice by now and Julian would be downstairs playing one of his video game systems. Her mother would have left for work by now and her mamá said she was going to get groceries that morning yesterday, so she had some time to herself to play with her new _normal_ software and guitar. Yes, everything was totally normal and nothing weird or unexplainable was going to happen to her today—

"Oh, she's woken up. Good morning, Rhapsody!"

 Scratch that. Scratch _all_ of that.

"Thomas?" She said his name hesitantly, as if she were still dreaming. "Guy-Man? Where are you two?"

"We retired to your computer system," Thomas answered, her laptop screen brightening up and showing a red, pixelated exclamation mark. "After you... after you collapsed, we decided to not make ourselves look suspicious. We apologize again for startling you upon first meeting. How unprofessional..." The last bit was muttered, but Rhapsody could not help but feel guilty for her reaction.

"Are you rested, now?" Guy-Man asked, and realizing that the two could not see her nod, she walked over to her laptop.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, thanks. And sorry for, uh, passing out on you. I must have been really tired." _Or really freaked out._ "Can we start over?"

A chirp from her laptop was her answer, and through a much less dramatic entrance, the two stood before her again. Thomas extended his hand for her to shake, as did Guy-Man. "Nice to meet you, Rhapsody," both said in unison, "we are Daft Punk."

The teen shook their hands carefully, as if her touch could break the tiles that lined their hands. "'Daft Punk'? You mean that's what DP stands for?"

They nodded, and Rhapsody could not resist asking, "But how did you two— how are you two _in_ the program but, you know, _here?"_

"We are not entirely sure ourselves," The taller of the two admitted, "All we remember is that on September 9th, 1999, at specifically 9:09 am, we were created due to an explosion in our creator's studio. We possess musical talents as well as the means to create it easily."

"So you can play instruments and stuff? And mix them up like electronic music?" This was slowly beginning to sound like an actual present. Two robots that can help her make actual, professional music? Her parents would be convinced in no time with their help, she thought, and her career could kick off easily. "That's— That's so cool! This is gonna fix everything, thank you so much!"

Her excitement may have confused the two, but nonetheless, they appeared to be willing to oblige if it meant it would "fix everything". They were still unused to human emotions, and Rhapsody seemed to be the perfect example of how easily they can change.

After putting her hair back up into a bun, she peeked over the banister outside of her room to check if Julian was in the living room as predicted, and to her relief, he was lounging on the couch with a controller in his hands. Before Thomas and Guy-Man could see what she was up to, Rhapsody shut the door to her bedroom (not _purposely_ in their faces, they concluded) and descended down the stairs, calling her brother's name all the while.

"If I had a nickel for every time you just said my name..." The brunette groaned, pausing his game to see what his sister's problem was this time. Compared to Rhapsody, the two could be twins: deep brown hair, bright emerald irises and tanned skin— he was only an inch taller than her and two years younger than her. "What's your deal now? Marina already gave you our present—"

"That's exactly what I want to talk to you about," she interrupted him, yanking his arm and pulling him from the couch to follow her upstairs.

"What's wrong? You didn't like it, did you? Look, I did a shit ton of research, you know—"

"I know how much effort and time you put into it, and I really really do appreciate it, but do you _know_ what you bought?" They stopped outside of her room, and she let go of his arm. "Like, did you read the terms and agreements?"

"No one reads that stuff, D, you know that." He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Can you tell me what your deal is? You're starting to freak me out."

She grabbed the knob to her bedroom door. "Well...it'd be easier to show you."

It would seem that Thomas and Guy-Man were listening intently at the door, and when Rhapsody opened it, Guy-Man's helmet was the first to get rattled. Thomas stepped back in time to avoid the collision, thankfully, while his golden counterpart was now cursing angrily in his native tongue and rubbing the side of his helmet.

"You should have stepped back in time," Thomas made an chirping sound equivalent to a laugh, and attempted to pat the other's back comfortingly.

"Were you two listening this whole time?" Rhapsody asked, an eyebrow raised. As if she needed more eavesdroppers in the house. "Actually, it doesn't matter. Guy, are you okay?"

"Just fine," he shook his head, apparently flustered. "thank you."

Julian reached for his sister's shoulder, shaking it gently, "D-D, who are these guys?"

It was as if the two bots had finally realized his existence, and Rhapsody turned to faced her younger brother. "Julian, this is Thomas and Guy-Manuel. They're the...well, they're the software you and Marina had gotten for me. Thomas, Guy-Man, this is my younger brother Julian."

Thomas was, of course, the first to offer his hand. "Nice to meet you, Julian. Thank you for purchasing our software."

The brunette hesitantly shook his hand, then Guy-Man's, still stunned by the two. "L-Likewise..."

"They call themselves Daft Punk," Rhapsody added, having gone into her room to retrieve the floppy disk. "'DP'— That's what it stands for. Did you know about this?”

“No way! I just read online in some forums about this program and how it’s really cool and shit and so I actually managed to find it and get it shipped here,” he answered, running a hand through his chocolate curls. “But, D, you gotta admit this is pretty fucking cool. I mean, two _robots?_ And they’re _french?_ This is like something from a sci-fi movie!”

_Damn his weakness in sci-fi movies,_ Rhapsody cursed mentally as she rolled her eyes. “Yeah, okay, I agree with you and all, but what am I gonna tell mom and mamá? I know you can keep a secret, but I’m not so sure anymore about Marina after she spilled my secret about wanting to be a musician.”

Julian waved her off, “Oh, please, Marina _can_ keep a secret. She just messed up yesterday. We were both wondering when you were gonna tell them anyways.”

“I was planning to tell them when I actually had something to show them, like a piece of music or something, you know? Not just spring it up on them and have a repeat of what went down yesterday.” The brunette sighed and walked into room past the Thomas and Guy-Man, waving Julian to come inside.

She grabbed her laptop from her desk and sat down on her bed, Julian sitting on the edge while the remaining two simply stood, still unsure as to where their places were in this picture. “But Thomas and Guy-Man said they could help me make music. So I’m pretty sure after we have at least one song, I can show it to mom and mamá and get them on my side.”

Thomas was hesitant to speak up, but Guy-Man nudged his arm to speak, “E-Excuse me, but what _is_ your problem regarding music making? F-From what we can gather, you’re having trouble convincing your parents?”

“They don’t think I can make it as a musician,” Rhapsody murmured, pulling up the mixing program. “So that’s why I need your help so bad. You can help me convince them otherwise.”

“Well, we were made to make music,” Guy-Man said, nodding. “We can help you, yes.”

“Hey, maybe you’ll get to DJ for our school dances,” Julian suggested. “That would be a pretty neat gig to start you off.”

She hummed in response, drumming her fingers against her chin. “Then we need dance-y stuff. I’ve never actually dealt with electronic music, I only listen to it.”

“You’ll be pleased to know that we specialize _especially_ in electronic music,” Thomas stated quite confidently, “we have sample tracks listed on the software, if you so desire to listen to what we have done in the past.”

“D, this is actually happening, you’re gonna make it.” Julian grinned towards his sister, and Rhapsody could not help but give an excited laugh at the gravity of the situation. Was this actually happening, was she really going to make it as a musician and let the world know her name? Would her parents finally be proud of her musical talents, would they praise and cheer for her? Hell, all of this attention could even get her a boyfriend or girlfriend.

That possibility made her _very_ eager to get started.

* * *

 

After introducing a very stunned Marina to her new allies, Rhapsody produced a contract that stated no words of her plan was to be said out loud in this household when their parents were around. Thomas and Guy-Man could not leave Rhapsody's room unless the house was safe and they were out of sight from the eyes of Rhapsody's mother and mamá.

Also, since their parents would not be home until later that day, Rhapsody decided to show the two around their new home, seeing as they had as much right to use whatever rooms they so desired when alone. A proper tour of the living room, kitchen, study, garage, formal dining and backyard was conducted, which proved rather fun to the new guests, surprisingly. It was not everyday that they get an actual "home", so they were delightfully pleased with the situation, even if they were only allowed to go out when it was deemed "safe".

"You're more than welcome to just chill wherever when my parents aren't home," Rhapsody said as they returned to her room once again, Julian and Marina leaving to start on lunch. "And we'll all be at school for most of the day, too, so it's mainly on weekends that we'll be home all day."

"It was very kind of you to show us around," Thomas replied, a pixelated check mark appearing on the screen of his helmet. "It was quite a... _new_ experience."

"It's the least I can do, I mean you two are basically living in the same house as us now. Not to mention you're helping me out with my parents and stuff." She grabbed her laptop and opened the mixing software, adjusting her glasses on her nose. “While we have some time to kill, I wanna listen to those tracks you were telling me about.” When she noticed the two standing (albeit awkwardly) near the door, she couldn’t help but laugh. “You guys can sit down, you know. I won’t bite.”

“L-Like we said, we’re not very good at interacting with humans...” Thomas replied, following Guy’s lead as they both sat on the edge of her bed. “Sorry if we come off as a bit...awkward.”

The brunette shook her head, “Nah, it’s okay. I wouldn’t expect you guys to be super cool with people yet, anyways. You don’t look like you’ve been outside of...a computer, I guess, for a while. But that’s okay! As your friend, I’ll help you guys out.”

They stayed quiet, but both Thomas and Guy-Man shared a glance. This— or rather, these humans were not like the others they had met. What drove them to be so _friendly_ towards them, despite not knowing what and who they were? And how can Rhapsody place so much trust in them so soon, deeming herself their “friend” just like that?

_Humans are strange,_ Guy-Man commented to Thomas through their separate communication route, _especially this one._

_Don’t be rude, Guillaume!_ Thomas chastised as Rhapsody began looking over their track names. _She’s just... unlike the rest. Maybe we could learn a few things from her and her siblings, don’t you think? They use a different slang than we do, it would be interesting to add words like theirs to our music._

_I suppose you’re right. However, I am curious to see what she is capable of doing music-wise. She appears to be serious about it._

_Only time will tell. I think I am “excited”, if that is the correct word, to work with her. Her upbeat attitude will possibly have a positive effect on our music._

“These tracks are fucking _gold,”_ their private conversation was cut off by Rhapsody’s sudden remark, and they realized that she had been playing their tracks in the background during their entire conversation. “Did you come up with these all on your own? I freaking love your sound— the club slash dancing vibe I get is really getting me into it.”

“Yes, we composed all of the music on the track listings.” Thomas answered, a bit thrown off by her praisings. “I take it you are into the ‘dancing’ type of music?”

“Oh, yeah. I just wish I knew how to make stuff like this— I mean, I’ve messed around with that kind of stuff before, but not with an actual program like this. I do like the older kind of music, too, like disco and pop and stuff like that, you know? I kind of wanna incorporate that kind of feel with electronic music, to make some diversity and make stuff that will make people wanna dance.”

“That’s...actually a very good point,” The taller of the three said, nodding slowly. It would seem that this human had some big ideas for music.

“Then, it’s decided,” Guy-Man stood suddenly, “Rhapsody, we will help you in your musical career. Given our musical talents and your ideas, I suspect interesting results. We should begin immediately, _non?”_

Thomas made the same chirping sound that could only be described as a laugh and stood as well, “He is obviously eager to begin. Shall we go to the recording studio?”

“R-Recording studio?” The teen stood hesitantly from her bed, “What do you mean?”

“Well...it would be easier to show you.”

 


End file.
